


Whumptober 2019: For the Hugs! (MCU Edition)

by Akarri, Ranowa



Series: Akarri and Ranowa's Months of Hugs [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Art, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-12-03 22:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akarri/pseuds/Akarri, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranowa/pseuds/Ranowa
Summary: Whumptober 2019: collaboration of art and ficsCome inside for angst, sad and hurt favorite characters, and hugs every which way!





	1. Art/fic: Peter and Tony, Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Whumptober 2019!
> 
> Ranowa: This will be a collaboration between myself and Akarri, the second of its kind! All art is by Akarri, all fics are by Ranowa! We're going a bit overboard- most likely will follow a whumptober prompt list, but for Akarri, this is also an exercise in drawing hugs of some form, and for myself, it's an exercise in writing short!fic. (Look at my usual word counts, and you'll see why...) We're also only going to post the arts/fics that we like, so some days may only have art, some may only have fic, some may have nothing at all; some will have both! 
> 
> Each chapter title will have whether it's art and/or fic inside, the main characters of the day, and the prompt, so you, the reader, can easily sort it all out to your heart's content. Each chapter notes will contain any applicable Archive warnings for that day's prompt. 
> 
> ENJOY <3

The concrete foundations of the warehouse shook from floor to ceiling to sky. Rattled all the way through with the howling wind, sheets of ice-cold rain, and cracks of thunder, burst to life overhead with every last breath.

And, breathless, heart-stopping, blood-boiling _rage._

Hammered into the warehouse with every blow.

"Give them back! _Give them back!"_

_"You took them from me! You t-took- took EVERYTHING!"_

** _"GIVE THEM BACK!" _ **

Another blow reverberated from the thunder in the skies above down to the very root of his spine. The whole of the entire ruined building shook and rain whiplashed overhead, sheeting downwards through the new, crumbling hole, worn right there in the roof.

_Give them back give them back givethemback givethemback NOW givethem-_

"Peter. Peter!"

_NO!_

"Stand down, kid. It's okay, stand down. You got them."

_"No!" _

"Listen to me. Peter, _right now, _you listen to me."

"They killed them! _They killed them!" _

"No, they-"

_"THEY'RE GONE AND IT'S ALL THEIR FAULT!"_

A hand caught his next fist, mid-swing through mid-scream. Something was wailing. Something was wailing, panting, screeching, shouting, writhing; something-

"-_kill them I'll kill them I'll kill them I'll-"_

"Shhhh, nope. Nope, nope, nope. You don't wanna do that, kid." 

"No." Hiccuping, gasping, shaking, sobbing. "No, I don't, I _don't. _I don't. But-" Deep inhale, and suddenly it was back, it was all back; the heat, the blood-boiling, heart-stopping, breathless _madness_, the- "_t-they-"_

"Listen to me _right now, _Peter Parker, or I swear I'll tell Karen to shut you down. I'll do it. You'll lose your walking privileges, and I'll have to carry you home like a baby, and you'll _never _hear the end of it, and that's not what you want, is it? Is it? No, I know it's not, kid. Come on. Easy does it."

"T-they... t-they _killed-..."_

"No, they _didn't. _That's what I'm trying to tell you, kid, you listening? You listening?" The hand dropped his fist, his bloody, dangerous, murdering fist because _they killed them _but it grabbed his shoulder instead, two warm hands that braced him upright and rattled the scream tearing him apart from the inside out. "It was a trick, it was all a trick. It was just a trick and I'm sorry, it was just a trick. And I'll tear them apart for it but no one's hurt, Peter, this is all about you. Come on, Peter, you don't want to do this, I know you don't. You're better, you're so much better than this. Come- come _on,_ kid, don't you do this, I _know _you don't want to, Peter, you're so good-"

"No. _No! No! No! NO!"_

"Peter-"

"'S not- it, it's not- 's not-" _real it's not real it's not real _"t-they- Aunt May, and N-Ned, and, and MJ, and- and- and-"

"And me. I know. But I'm here, right here, aren't I?"

"Mr. Stark-"

_"Listen _to me. They drugged you, they lied to you, they-"

"I-"

"-it's finished, now, it's done, and we're going home, and you're going to see everyone and we'll watch Star Wars together and it'll be _fine, _but you have to-... Peter. Peter?"

"I d-don't..."

"C'mon, kid. Kid. Talk to me."

"I... I d-don't want to... to kill them, Mr. Stark, I... I d-don't... want-..."

"You don't have to. You _didn't. _You- christ, Peter. Look at you, look at this. You did so good, you did this, all on your own. So proud of you. Reckless, crazy, stupid-amazing, that's your brand, Peter, stupid-amazing, and you're good at it, so proud of you. Come on. It's over, now; don't have to do anymore. Come on, Peter- that's it..."

The scream caught in his chest tore itself all the way free, ripping violently outwards to leave a festering, bleeding wound behind, and vanished itself all the way down into a cloth shoulder and a suddenly squeezing and tight arm.

"Oh, _shit. _Good boy. Good boy. That's it."

"Mr. S-Stark-"

"Nope, shhh. None of that. We're going, right now. Come on. Spider-crawl this way. Web them up if you want to. Come on."

But he couldn't. He couldn't spider-crawl anywhere; he couldn't web anything up. Couldn't move his arms, couldn't feel his legs, and suddenly he wasn't stumbling, suddenly he was falling and being pulled up and half-dragged, and he couldn't stop it and couldn't even want to. Suddenly there was a hand in his hair and he slipped and flailed to fall, right over the blood.

"Nope. _Nope- _atta boy, that's it. This way. This way. This way, kid. Stay on your feet, just like that; you're a champ, kid, _shit _you're amazing-"

"T-they said they killed... they. They said. T-they said they'd... that..."

Another slip and tumble over a blood-slicked floor, and the world finally stopped tilting. Not all the way, not everything, the wind and the rain and the massive, hungry world still tilted and turned around them but here and now, just under his feet, his scraped and bleeding fists, it went frozen and choked and still. A hand pressed to his shoulder, a face to the back of his head, and-

"Come on, kid. You really think anyone could take me out so easily? I'm _Iron Man."_

Roll of angry, disastrous thunder. Rain. Rain.

"And you, Mr. Peter Parker, are Spiderman. Which is why we're gonna get out of here, and when the cavalry shows up to take care of those low-lifes back there, you're gonna web-swing me back home, because you can't be a friendly neighborhood Spiderman from all the way out here in the middle of nowhere."

...

"Peter?"

...

"Peter, just as a reminder, I'm _not _wearing the suit right now, so please don't break me in half when I hug you right now, please and thank you."

Mr. Stark hugged him, long and tight and hard, and the rain poured, and Peter did not break him in half.


	2. Art/fic: Peter and Tony, Waterlogged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the kudos!!!
> 
> Ranowa: ayyyy guess who finally watched FFH and got inspired o/ (no spoilers in the chapter though)

"You know, if you keep ditching school like this, they might actually kick you out for realsies, this time."

Peter grinned, his shoulders hunched up around his ears in the cold of the rain, and didn't bother to reply.

He actually hadn't intended to miss class, this time- he really had thought he was only going out for a quick crime-fighting snack for lunch. But, as crime-fighting tended to go, everything had just shot off out of control, and now he was somewhere in New Jersey, getting rained on at four in the afternoon, and being walked home by Tony Stark.

These things really did just seem to have a way to keep on happening, no matter how good his plans were. The only alternative was to hang up the suit, and, yeah, well, that wasn't happening.

Tony tried again, nudging at him with an elbow and almost manically bright eyes. "Seriously! You say no to the Avengers, that you want to be a normal kid- and now every other week Happy's texting me that you're cutting class to webswing around the city!"

"I'm not cutting school to _webswing, _I'm helping people!"

"_Every_ time?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark, really! I promise! I mean-" Despite the cold of the rain, Peter found a faint flush trying to climb up his neck, and suddenly couldn't swallow back an embarrassed twitch of a smile. "Sometimes I take the long way back, but- you would too, if you could webswing..."

Tony smirked, in a way that cut through even rain and grey skies as utterly inexorable. "See, that's where you're wrong, kid, because I wouldn't be going back to school at all." Digging his hands into his pockets, the man tilted his head back, squinting up towards the cloud above. (Peter was about 95% sure his glasses had some sort of energy field, repelling every drop water as they fell.)

"Really, though," he said again, after several moments. "You turned me down because you wanted things to stay the same. And I'm not talking about high school, by the way, you're _Spiderman; _Spiderman doesn't need high school. A recommendation letter from Tony Stark, billionaire genius playboy philanthropist, will get you anywhere in life that you want to go," he said, and when he grinned at Peter again, it somehow cut through the water and chill to warm him all the way from the inside out. "But it's been a while, now, and- anywhere in life that you want to go is really starting to look like a waterlogged sewer rat crawling out of New Jersey."

"All right, _that's _not fair!"

"Is it not? Did I _not _just find you crawling out of a New Jersey sewer?"

"You're just as wet as me, now, Mr. Stark, and anyway, that's _not _my fault and you know it, I was only-"

"Third time this month?"

"Twice! _Twice!" _he cried, and Tony ooked so pleased with himself Peter half-expected to see him levitate right off the ground.

The rain drizzled overhead still. Scattering across the comfortable silence that solidified between them, and Peter's own smile faded. He stared down at his feet, treading footprints in every forming mud-puddle along the way, and soon found himself with his shoulders weighing down with more than just the weight of the water.

"I just want everything to stay the same," he muttered, finally. "Just like it is now. I know it _can't, _but... I'm happy with things like this." Peter glanced sideways again, swallowing the uncertainty gathered in his throat to look back at his superhero-turned-mentor.

_Is that really so bad? _

But that wasn't the question. Not really.

It probably wasn't. No, it probably wasn't bad at all, in fact. But that didn't change any of this, either.

It didn't mean that Tony wasn't right, and that just because he loved how things were just right now, didn't mean it could stay like this forever.

By the look on his face, there was no need for words. Tony already got it.

There was another brief, withdrawn silence.

"What do you think you'd be doing right now, then, if things were different?" Tony glanced at him again, one eyebrow raising to his dampening hairline. "If you hadn't been bitten by that spider, and were just regular old, ridiculous science nerd Peter Parker."

"Well, that's not me, anymore, is it? I'm Spiderman. I can't go back to being _just Peter Parker, _anymore. ...Although I think I'd probably be dry, for one thing. _And_ not getting made fun of by Iron Man."

Said Iron Man chuckled quietly, smile twitching broader. But there was an edge to it again, and this one, too, Peter felt, right in his throat.

If he hadn't gotten that life-changing, ridiculously improbable, amazing bite of that spider.

He'd be home, for one thing. Or maybe at school; Quizbowl practice with Ned and MJ. His physics teacher wouldn't hate him because he kept missing class, and he'd be visiting colleges right now instead of- not. He'd have been able to have an actual homecoming dance without letting his date down. May would still be proud of him, and Ned would still be his best friend, and Flash would still be a jerk, and he'd probably still really like MJ and never have the guts to tell her, like any normal high school boy. (Though he'd never have met Tony, and at the lurch in his stomach Peter didn't know what he'd do with that but that wasn't okay at _all._) He'd have an answer to the question _what do you want to be when you grow up _besides _Spiderman._

That was the thing, really. That was what Tony was trying to ask, and Peter didn't have an answer to that question, because there wasn't really a choice to it anymore. He was _Spiderman. _That was who he was now, and that was who he was always going to be.

Another minute into the silence, Tony drew his warm, damp arm around his warm, damp shoulders, and squeezed. He didn't say anything, and he looked a little sad, but he was there, and without words, he understood.

That was enough.


	3. Art/fic: Peter and Tony, Unconscious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!

All Peter would be able to remember of the battle, in the days and months and years that followed, was an explosion that sounded like thunder, or maybe that was just Thor, and the blinding flash of light that was one of Tony's plasma cannons, burst as a white-hot star in front of his eyes.

After that, the ground drifted away from under his feet, turning grey and fuzzy like a cloud, and all he could see was the red glint of the sky.

* * *

"...not allowed to go off on your own, you know..."

"Mr. Stark," Peter sighed.

"Nah, it's the easter bunny."

"Mr. _Stark."_

"Go back to sleep, kid," Tony ordered, his voice low and muffled from the whip and howl of the wind around them.

Peter did.

* * *

He was flying.

Actually, seriously flying.

Something about that was off, but Peter was too tired to quite figure out what. "Flying," he mumbled, instead, pushing the palm of his hand flat against the hot glow, just beside his head.

"Yep. Right over the Atlantic." A careful jostling, somewhere about the vicinity of his knee. "We know you have a choice in airlines, and thank you for choosing to fly Stark International. We may not be as comfortable as first class, but we're the fastest flight around, so enjoy your in-flight entertainment while you still can, and hope we'll be landing shortly."

Peter blinked fuzzily again. He blinked for what felt to be five seconds, five minutes, five hours, an eternity.

"Mr. Stark," he asked, dazed inside and out, "are you an airplane?"

And Tony laughed, laughed for five seconds, five minutes, five hours, an eternity, he laughed until Peter felt it, warm and safe inside his own chest, and he said, "Sure, Peter,", and the world faded into nothingness again.

* * *

"...he keeps _sleeping, _I don't know what's wrong with him, even when he's awake he barely makes sense, this- this is _your _fault, Mr. Wizard, why didn't you just portal us home-"

"Because I have no idea where you are, and therefore have no way to do so?"

"What is even the point of having magic powers if they're this _useless?!"_

"Stark. I told you as such when I looked at him: _he'll be fine. _You just need to keep him safe, let him sleep, and get the kid home."

"...and you'll look at him when we get back to New York?"

"If you insist."

"Oh, shut up, Strange, I know you're already having coffee in Aunt May's sitting room."

Sunlight sparkled against the red and gold of the arms around him, and Peter sloped sideways, watching the pass of the water below and the clouds above. "Hi, Dr. Strange."

A low chuckle came in his ear, deep on the audio wired through his suit, just as Tony squeezed his knee yet again. "Hi, kid."

"Keep causing Stark trouble for me, will you?"

"'m not... 'm not causing..."

"Oh, shut _up," _Tony moaned; second time in as many minutes, "Strange, you are the worst influence _ever," _and the audio cut out, and then it was just the two of them, again. "Spidey, I don't care that he's technically maybe a magic doctor; you need to web him in the face the next time you see him."

Peter rolled his wrist, feeling the dizzy flex of the webshooter around his arm, and he was pretty sure it was a joke, but he gave a dazed nod upwards anyway. "He's the best influence," he said, and Tony made an indignant squawk, "you're both the best influences _ever," _and then Tony made a small noise that sounded like a cross between a choke and a sob.

They kept flying, and Peter went back to sleep.

* * *

"Where're... where are we?"

"Icelandic airspace," Tony deadpanned, in that way of his. As if they had been carrying on a conversation this whole time, as if Peter hadn't been asleep at all, that way of delivering mindblowing facts with such a matter-of-fact... matter-of-fact factness, that there was a fifty percent chance of it being a joke.

At the moment, Peter didn't actually really care so much, if it was a joke or not. Everything was so _fuzzy. _"Hm," he mumbled, an eye squeezing shut, cracking open, squeezing shut tighter. "'s cold."

"I should hope so; it's _Iceland!'_

"Hm," Peter sighed, again. Should really work on that. Saying something else besides _hm._ "Never... been to Iceland before..."

"Yeah?" There was a gentle squeeze about one of his shoulders, or maybe nothing at all. "Well, that's not going to change today, either. You're not going anywhere right now besides home."

"Home," Peter sighed.

"Home," Tony said back, and Peter's eyes were closed, but somehow, he saw the amused grin, all the same.

* * *

"Your aunt's really going to kill me, if you keep this up."

...

"You have to stop doing this, Peter."

...

"Please."

* * *

The sky was dark and smelled like oil and smog, when Peter woke up again, golden sparkle of lights reflecting off the sharp red that was all around him, and the city unfolded in a dizzy span around him just like a spider's web.

"Home?" Peter pressed, his head still spinning, spinning all the way, and he still had no idea where the ground was as he was pulled back upright and hugged all the way around.

"Home," Tony confirmed.


	4. Art/fic: Thor and Loki, Pinned Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Archive Warnings Apply

"Anyone can pick it up, then? You're saying it's _anyone at all?"_

"That is what the my father said when he enchanted it."

"So long as they're- what's it- _worthy. _Whatever that's supposed to mean- they can lift it, then? That's the only requirement? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Tony held still, slouched back against the opposing wall, scrutinizing the solid weight of the hammer propped up against his worryingly fragile coffee table. Thor's feet, kicked up casually just next to it as if, rather than a priceless artifact of Norse legend, it was nothing more than a plastic paperweight.

"Is there a problem?" Thor pressed. Mjolnir was nudged tauntingly by nothing more than his foot.

Tony frowned again.

"I don't actually _buy it, _though."

"There's nothing to purchase, my friend. Mjolnir is only for those who are worthy: you are not worthy."

"What? No, I don't care about _that!" _Tony pushed off the wall to crouch down by the hammer, sweeping around the table on his knees to peer at it from every angle. "It's this nonsense about _worthy. _This wishy-washy-" He glowered, giving the inscrutable weapon a whack that didn't even budge it. Not even a damn millimeter. "What the hell does that mean, _worthy. _Is that a quantifiable variable, over on Asgard? Do you measure it all in worthiness-units of worthy? You must be at least one full Thor in order to ride?" He nudged uselessly at the hammer again, left to just shake his head in wonder because no matter _how hard _he pushed, he knew it would never, ever budge. As it it had been superglued in place as a prank, superglued with a space-magic superglue that only Thor could move.

Said crazy Norse god of legend merely grinned blithely again. Though it was just a little too self-assured and smug for Tony to buy _that, _either.

It really wasn't that _Tony _couldn't budge it. Tony was quite fine with not being judged as Worthy to be the king of the magic space viking elf gods, actually, contrary to popular belief. He had enough to worry about with Earth, thank you very much. No, his obsessive need to quantify just _what it was _that made one able to lift Mjolnir wasn't about that.

It was about _science! _

Worthy. _Worthy. _What kind of hogwash was that, _worthy. _Sure, space magic and all of that, hammer of legend aside- he was supposed to believe there was some sort of magical _worthiness test. _How was it quantified? How did the spell _know? _How could such a thing be measured at all-?

It couldn't be. That was _his _conclusion. There was no scientific scale that existed on Earth that could remotely come close to measuring such a thing. And Asgard might not have been Earth, but even Asgard couldn't flout in the face of _science. _

Okay, maybe they _could. _With their supernatural lightning-strikes, picky-choosiness, and magical _flying. _

But telling him there was an objective scale and way of measuring _worthy, _whatever the hell that actually meant, was a step too far.

(Or extremely intriguing, so as to keep people like Rhodey from nabbing his suits. Judged _unworthy, _Rhodey, how about _that.)_

"I bet it's got a genetic analyzer," he prodded, squinting at the hammer again, then back to smug, smug Thor. "That's it, isn't it? The handle runs a topical analysis for Asgardian DNA, or whatever it is you guys have got, and without a positive result it switches off whatever makes the lightning work and keeps the- the Superglue Protocol on. The magic, super-est of superglue. That's it, isn't it?"

Thor smiled again, beaming in that way of his, like an overeager puppy dog. Tony's every attempt at glaring the hammer into budging continued to fail. "I think you would love Asgard, my friend," was all he said at first, and Tony continued to glower Mjolnir into submission. Tried to. "And I'm afraid that you are still incorrect- myself and Odin are the only ones on Asgard who are able to wield her."

"Prove it."

"Prove it?" Thor started, laughing. "Prove our magic to you? Is your inability to lift her not enough? And barring a trip to Asgard, of course-"

As if on cue, Thor's eyes brightened, a sudden smile spreading across his face, beaming like a sun cutting through storm clouds. It was the light of an idea, a brilliant, unshakable, perfect idea, a scientist's eureka moment... or, perhaps, just a big brother's height of pranksterism.

"I've got an idea," he announced, and was up on his feet, Mjolnir swung up in his grip as light as a feather, before Tony had even started to follow.

* * *

Before:

Loki. Spread out on his back over the couch cushions, long legs propped up and head still fighting for space, his hands interlaced over a book on his chest, a thick book of something not-Earth and magic-y and complicated. His eyes slipped shut, and one hand just starting to slip sideways to dangle in unquestionable sleep.

Now:

Tony and Thor, tiptoeing their way through an advance as careful and silent as if Loki were an easily spooked deer. Reindeer. Tony, for his part, kept himself very firmly behind Thor: if someone was going to get disintegrated, cursed, blown up, or stabbed all the way through because of this, it was _going _to be him.

After:

Reindeer Games, flat on his stomach, with what was possibly the sulkiest pout in the entire world on his face, eating a mouthful of carpet, and pinioned there with nothing more than Mjolnir sitting on his back like one very big paperweight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and we hope you enjoyed! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated <3
> 
> (Please bear in mind: we're doing BBC Sherlock and FMA for this month as well, and we're also busy individuals outside of ficdom ;u; Some days will have an art/fic/hug for another fandom, and some we may have to take a break entirely. Please bear with us here, and hopefully, we can all have some fun!)


End file.
